<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Shut up/Kiss me by UnethicallyBrilliant</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26659660">Shut up/Kiss me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnethicallyBrilliant/pseuds/UnethicallyBrilliant'>UnethicallyBrilliant</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angry Sex, Cunnilingus, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, First Time, Hate Sex, Lesbian Sex, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Rivalry, Workplace Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:15:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,265</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26659660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnethicallyBrilliant/pseuds/UnethicallyBrilliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Moira hates Angela Ziegler. From her self righteousness, to her incessant need to scold the geneticist on a daily basis, she was always a thorn in her side. </p>
<p>So how exactly did she find herself in Angela's office, on her knees with her head between the doctor's thighs?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Moira O'Deorain &amp; Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Moira O'Deorain/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shut up/Kiss me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How in the hell did she find herself here? She found the woman self righteous and irritating, judgemental, with a holier-than-thou attitude that rotted Moira to her core. She hated the way she'd get scolded by her, as if she were some child misbehaving in school, like she automatically knows better than everyone. She hated the way she looked down at Moira despite being multiple inches shorter than her. Her straightlaced methods, her morals, both of which directly clashed with Moira's own tenacity to further acience at any cost. She hated her lilted voice, the crisp blonde tone of her hair, and her smile when she doesn't notice the redhead watching from across the cafeteria. </p>
<p>Moira despised Angela Ziegler. So how in the hell did she find herself here, in her office, with her head between the doctor's thighs? </p>
<p>One minute they were having one of their disagreements, Angela disavowing Moira's most recent project and her methods for testing, Moira solidly standing her ground and defending her stance on the matter, bringing up the shades of grey that both of their work fall into.</p>
<p>"Ressurection is tricky business, Ziegler. You should be as aware as I am that bringing things back from the dead like a necromancer isn't exactly lacking scandal," Moira stated in frustration, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched as she stared the blonde down from across the desk, the chair ignored in favour of a stiff standing posture.</p>
<p>Angela's eyes widened, the term seeming to strike a cord in her, and then they narrowed with a fury that almost made Moira back down. The redhead wasn't given that choice, her tie getting snatched by the other's hand and yanked, pulling her down to eye level from over the desk   "And how do you know about that, O'Deorain? Stealing files from my office again?"</p>
<p>Her voice was harsh and accusatory, frustrated beyond belief, and Moira could feel the force of her words being shot out of her lips from only inches away, her warm breath touching her own flushed and bitten lips. </p>
<p>"Of course I am. How else am I supposed to figure out what you're working on?" She cocked an eyebrow and let a crooked, taunting smirk appear on her lips before she's let go with a rough shove to her chest, Angela obviously not happy with her answer.</p>
<p>A grunt of irritation left Angela in a rumble as she rounded the desk, "You are a rude, cruel, horrible woman, Moira O'Deorain," she was pointing now, using her finger to jab at Moira's sternum between words for emphasis, frosty blue eyes glaring at the taller woman as she backed her into the desk, "How dare you disrespect me like that. You can't just waltz in here and take whatever you want!" her voice dropped a bit and she grabbed at her tie again, but this time she shoved her back as she leaned in close, narrowing her eyes and furrowing her brow,  "And I'd advise you to never call me a necromancer again, Moira."</p>
<p>Moira gave a grin, "Necromancer-"</p>
<p>"Stop talking-"</p>
<p>"What are you going to do, Ziegler? Report me again? Tattle to Jack? Go right ahead, they don't even look at your complaints anymore, not after you-"</p>
<p>Moira was shoved hard, both of Angela's hands coming to her shirt to ball fabric in her fists and pin her against the desk.</p>
<p>Moira let out a grunt at the force, but kept that cocky grin, "The angel's getting violent. How interesting-"</p>
<p>"I said stop talking, Moira-" it came out in a snarl as she loomed over the geneticist.</p>
<p>"I thought you were a pacificst? Do no harm, and all that-" </p>
<p>Before she could finish her sentence she was being yanked back toward Angela, their lips crashing together roughly. The blonde forced her tongue into her mouth, and Moira pressed into the heated kiss fervently until she pulled back to take in a breath and look at Angela in confusion, "What the hell are you on about, Ziegler?" She barked at her only an inch away.</p>
<p>"I'm getting you to shut up, O'Deorain-" she snapped back before crushing their lips together once more, her fists finally loosening around the fabric she held and moving to work her tie out of its knot.</p>
<p>Angela was well aware of Moira's promiscuous nature, having heard through the grapevine tales of her late nights out, so it musn't have come as a surprise to her when Moira didn't complain. She pushed back into the kiss while Angela's fingers found the buttons on her shirt and began to pop them open while their tongues wrestled and their bodies pressed flush against each other. </p>
<p>While Angela worked at the buttons, Moira's hands roamed from Angela's hips down to her backside to give a firm squeeze. The blonde shoved the fabric from Moira's shoulders, tossing both the tie and expensive shirt to the floor, which she would undoubtedly get grilled for later, and once Moira was free from the fabric she repositioned Angela, switching their places and lifting her onto the desk.</p>
<p>Lucky for both of them, Angela was wearing a skirt today. </p>
<p>Moira brought her lips to Angela's neck, pressing warm kisses and gentle nips against the flesh there as her hands traveled up the woman's thighs, fingers catching underneath the hem of the skirt and pushing the fabric up. Angela craned her head to give her more room to work with, letting out small whimpers at the attention and a little gasp when her skirt was being moved. </p>
<p>Moira sucked a possessive mark, emblazoning her presence onto her skin before she brought a hand between Angela's legs to graze over the damp cotton panties separating them. That earned grunt of impatience from the blonde, rolling her eyes as she shakily lets out a complaint.</p>
<p>"Hurry up, we are both still on the clock-"</p>
<p>Moira simply hummed in response, obliging as she hooked her fingers around the waist and pulled, Angela doing her part to lift herself enough for them to slip down and to the floor.</p>
<p>Moira joined them, getting down on her knees, her hands splayed out over Angela's thighs as she roughly parted them and leaned in to slowly drag her tongue through her folds.</p>
<p>Angela gasps at the first contact, then lays herself back against the desk as her hands found Moira's perfectly styled red hair, running her fingers through until she had a firm grip while the geneticist moved her attention to her clitoris, circling the bundle of nerves and then lapping greedily.</p>
<p>Her hands kept their grip on Angela's thighs, fingers pressing bruises into the fair flesh as it becomes flush with pink the longer she continues her ministrations. They were well received, the blonde starting to pant, small, quiet moans accompanying each breath.</p>
<p>It was certainly an experience, having Angela on her back, mewling from Moira's tongue, the same woman that chastised her day after day, week after week, scolding her and berating her. It was satisfying, knowing she had this kind of power over the woman, to see her coming undone because of her. It sparked a hunger inside of Moira, one that wanted to release all of her pent up frustration on the woman that caused it. </p>
<p>She sucked at the bundle of nerves, lips coming to clamp around while one hand let go of her thigh to join Angela's slick sex. Moira presses two fingers inside, God knows she's wet enough to take it, and begins to pump them experimentally, tongue still rolling aggressively against the nub. </p>
<p>Angela's small whimpers grew into full moans at the addition of fingers, her grip tightening in the woman's hair. Mumbled curses in Swiss German are forced out under her breath, feeling Moira curl her long, slender fingers deep inside of her and massage against her g-spot, prodding it expertly. There was no doubt Moira was skilled and had plenty of experience, knowing all the right movements and angles to hit just right, sending pleasure coursing through her body. </p>
<p>Despite enjoying the pleasure she was receiving, Angela felt a need to knock Moira down a peg, or show some form of reluctance. Her tone irritated, she growled, "You had better hope that nobody h-hears us-"</p>
<p>Moira detatched her mouth from Angela's warmth, looking up at her with a grin, "Hears you-"</p>
<p>Angela shoved her head back to her cunt, her hips rolling against Moira's fingers eagerly. </p>
<p>"God, c-can't you do any better? I told you to hurry up-" she hissed through gritted teeth, one hand leaving the mess of now imperfect hair to grip at the edge of the desk.</p>
<p>Moira took that as a signal to amp up the pace, letting her mouth come off of her again so she could stand. She continued to slide her fingers in and out as she repositioned, the hand on her thigh now spread over her hip, then scathed up her torso to her breasts to grope roughly and possessively over her white button up and bra. Now, standing over her and between her legs, she could get the proper leverage to fuck her nice and hard, her wrist rolling harshly, sounds of wetness filling the office, her slick dripping down Moira's palm. </p>
<p>"Is this better?" Moira asks her, a playful teasing in her voice. She didn't need an answer in words, Angela's moans told her everything she needed to know and it was like music to her ears.</p>
<p>"Just shut up for once-" the blonde demanded, arching her back off the desk as she grabbed at Moira's wrist with her newly freed hand. </p>
<p>That hand was on the move again, finding home on her throat. Thin fingers wrapped tightly around Angela's neck, pressing on each opposing artery on either side to slow the blood flow to her brain, making the room spin and the pleasure amplify. </p>
<p>"I think you need to be quiet, Angela," she punctuated her words with particularily forceful thrusts of her wrist, slamming against her cervix to make it more difficult for her to keep quiet.</p>
<p>And it was. She had to bite her own tongue to keep from crying out in pleasure and a lick of pain. What whines and moans did slip out through her strangled vocal cords were absolutely beautiful, and despite knowing it was a bad idea, she couldn't help but picture having her again, nd agsin, and again. All the different ways she could defile her and punish her, make her unravel at her fingertips, everything was playing in Moira's mind as she fucked her hard and fast, chasing down the woman's orgasm like a starving wolf chases its prey.</p>
<p>Angela feels the swell of pressure and pleasure in her lower abdomen build quickly, spurred on by the barrage of vigorous thrusts. In her fog her hands search for the Moira, pulling at her arms and shoulders to bring her closer. The heat between their bodies was rising, and Moira's lips were scorching on her neck, then a new hot pain shot through her collar throbbing between Moira's teeth as she bit down. </p>
<p>That was enough to send Angela over the edge all at once. Her muscles tightened, her vision blurred, eyes rolling back into her head as she let out a dangerously loud groan that melted into a whine. Her body shook and the walls of her cunt clenched tightly around Moira's fingers, which never stopped working inside of her, as she rode out her orgasm to finish, letting Moira's name tumble messily out of her parted lips.</p>
<p>Angela's body collapsed, going weak and limp against the desk while she panted, aftershocks coursing through her. Moira slid her fingers out of the other, licking languidly upwards, then she reached to Angela and pushed those same fingers into Angela's mouth.</p>
<p>Instinctually, she accepted them, until she realized how much of a win this would be for Moira. Angela slaps her hand away and sits up on the desk before letting herself down to the floor and bends to retrieve her underwear, slipping them up her legs until they're hidden once again under her skirt. </p>
<p>She smoothed her skirt out and tucked her white button up back in, then handed Moira her shirt and tie, shoving it into her stomach.</p>
<p>Moira was disappointed. Angela was still being a cunt, still acting like she's above her. So nonchalantly dressing without a word and expecting Moira to leave. Fine, if that's how she's going to be then Moira would be the one to put the spoken barrier up. </p>
<p>The redhead scoffs and tongues at her cheek as she slips her arms into her shirt, buttoning it, "Let us not allow this to happen again, Doctor." </p>
<p>"Yes, I think that would be best," Angela responded firmly, sitting in the chair behind her desk and pulling files out. Moira couldn't tell if she was making a fake display of reading or if she actually was, but she decides it must be the former. Once her buttons are fastened, she knots her tie and pulls her hands through her hair, casting Angela one last conflicted, bitter glance before exiting the office and heading back to her own dorm to think about just how much she hates Angela Ziegler.</p>
<p>She hates her face. She hates her holier-than-thou attitude. She hates her voice and her moans. She hates her stupid fucking morals. She hates how she felt under her, how she tasted, how she said Moira's name when she came.</p>
<p>And most of all, she absolutely and incredibly hated that she wanted more of her. </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>